Once
by noiir
Summary: How will Temperance Brennan cope with the worst experience of her life. BB story.
1. Chapter 1

She woke with a start, her hand brushing the desk. She cringed as a distinct thud and smash filled the air, sitting up fully and peering over her desk to see the photo frame face down lying in a sea of glass specks. She moaned, leaning back in her chair, rubbing her forehead absentmindedly.

Her office was dark, the only light coming from outside, slashed by the blinds leaving slits of light on the carpet. She glanced at her watch, 1am. She figured she must have been asleep for about an hour. Zach had left at 7pm, followed by Hodgins and Angela and hour or so later. Brennan had remained behind to continued her analysis of the skeleton of a young female brought in earlier that week. She sighed, standing up and grabbing her coat, deciding that she should really sleep in her own bed. The identification process for their newest case had been slow, painfully slow. Despite her dedicated and gifted team, they had yet to find a definitive cause of death. Angela had also been struggling, with the resulting visualization from the Angelator bringing up no results from the FBI or missing persons.

Her heart panged slightly as her thoughts turned to Booth. Their relationship had shifted since their kiss, and instead of falling into the professional bracket, it now floated over the line she had so carefully drawn between her professional and personal life. Not that there was much personal life anymore, she concluded sadly. The lab was her life; the last attempt at a social life had involved Angela dragging her to a nightclub having 'tarted her up'; Angela's words, not hers. It had almost ended in disaster when she very nearly punched a guy who groped her arse. Thankfully Angela had been alert, despite the consumption of a few cocktails, and had dragged Brennan away before she could do anything. Angela had tried to outline club etiquette to her as they sat in the back of the taxi heading home, but Brennan had instead started ranting about the lack of respect for females in current society. Angela had been more than happy for the alcohol in her veins, making the rant less painful. That had happened two months previous; the most social activity since then was watching one of Parker's softball games that she had promised him she would attend.

She locked her office, her mind focused on one thing – sleep. The couch in her office looked tempting, but having spent the last two days in the Jeffersonian, she knew that Angela would be far from impressed if she found out that she had once again spent the night in her office. More to the point however, she had run out of clean clothing.

She crossed the car park, the dull lighting soporific. She approached her car, thumbling through her bag for her car keys, groaning slightly when she saw the strip light above her car flicker and die.

"Typical" she muttered under her breath, feeling around, feeling proud when her fingers gripped the cold metal of her car keys.

"Dr. Brennan" a quiet voice called from behind. She jumped at the closeness. She had barely turned when she was met with darkness. The last thing she recalled was the loudness of her cars keys hitting concrete.


	2. Chapter 2

Awareness came gradually. The first thing she became aware of was the quietness penetrated by a dull hum. She shuddered, realising how cold she was, her body heat seeping into the concrete below. Time passed and more coherent thoughts surfaced. _What the hell happened?_ She asked herself, trying to think through the haze in her head. Then a rush of thoughts hit her and she struggled to roll over, partially sat up, emptying her stomach on the concrete.

"Oh god" Brennan sobbed, her body shaking now. A few minutes later she felt calm enough to attempt to stand. With shaking hands she unlocked her car, getting in, and making sure it was locked, her breathing rugged. She glanced at the clock at the dashboard, 1:44am. She'd been unconscious for about thirty minutes, her head now deciding to vie for attention, the throbbing beginning. She touched the back of her head, hissing as it stung, her hand coming away slick with blood. She switched on the overhead car light, flipping down the drivers side mirror.

"Oh my..." she tailed off, putting a hand to her swollen cheek; she looked a mess. There were scratch marks down the side of her face, her lip swollen and dry with blood and her left cheekbone was a dull blue colour. She looked down, noticing for the first time the scratch marks down her arms, absent-mindedly wondering why they didn't hurt. _Shock_, she told herself. Her other injuries were what made her shaking become violent, and she gripped the car door handle, her knuckles white and breathing laboured as she tried to calm herself. She was assaulted by another onslaught of memories and she thumbled with the car door throwing it open before leaning out and heaving. _All I wanted to do was sleep_, she laughed bitterly to herself. She learnt against the car seat, trying to rationalise her situation; she had been assaulted and she needed to get to the hospital. Her bag was gone, and she had no phone on her person, that meant she would have to go back into the Jeffosonian. The light above the entrance mocked her, and she slammed the car door shut. She couldn't do it she realised feeling pathetic. _I can't cross the god damn car park_ she thought, choking back a sob. That left her two options; first, sit in the car and wait till the others arrived for work, but that would be at least another 5 hours, or drive herself to the hospital. She pondered it for a moment, before deciding that she felt fit enough to drive, albeit slowly to the hospital. She feared the night had just begun.

The receptionist at the ER had been on the phone for 7 minutes now, Brennan noted annoyed. The large clock above the seating area had assured her of this. She seemed to be invisible to the receptionist, and her usually strong persona would have got her attention earlier but she wanted to shrink away into the dull décor of the reception area. Forget what had happened, sleep. The reception was furnished with dark red seats, set in the a U-shape with further seating in the middle. A water cooler sat in one corner, humming away quietly, and several noticeboards adorned the light green walls. The seating area was deserted for the most part. A mother sat with a son stroking his hair, as he clutched his left arm, fighting against sleep. Brennan could see the dried tear tracks on his face, and could hear the soft murmurs of the mothers words in the boys ear. She felt jealous for a moment, realising that that was something she had never had. After her parents left, there were so many times when she just needed someone to hold her and tell her it was going to be fine. She was brought out of her reverie by a high pitched voice, and she turned slowly.

"My dear" the receptionist stated, her accent thick, tinged with slight shock; Brennan realised she must look bad. She was thankful that she had left a jacket in the boot of her car so that she cover up somewhat, particularly the scratch marks along her arms. She brought a hand self consciously to her cheek trying to smile but failing miserably; the receptionist forced a smile in return.

"I'm going to have to ask you to fill this out then then a doctor can see you." The receptionist handed her a form and a pen, before pulling a hand through her short raven black hair.

"Thanks" Brennan stated less than enthusiastically and filled out the form, stopping when she found details she couldn't fill in, her pen hovering over the form.

"Um, sorry." she spoke softly getting the attention of the receptionist who looked at Brennan expectantly. Brennan twisted the form pointing her pen at a particular section.

"My bag was...stolen in my, um...earlier so I can't fill this out."

Brennan cringed at the expression of pity on the receptionists face, "Not to worry" she stated in a mock cheerful tone, "We'll get the doctor to have a look at you."

"If you could just hop up on the bed for me" the doctor stated, flicking through some sheets of paper. The doctor was called "Dr. Evans", the name stitched into his white coat in intricate writing. He was an attractive man with piercing blue eyes, his sleeves rolled up, a blue stethoscope hanging around his neck.

"Do you have any allergies Miss..." he glanced at the sheet, trying to make out a name.

"Temperance Brennan" she added, the doctor smiling warmly in thanks.

"Miss. Brennan, are you allergic to any medications?"

Brennan would have corrected him. She was _Dr_. Brennan; Miss. Brennan just felt wrong, but she didn't have the energy so she thought for a few moments, "Not that I'm aware of." She shifted uncomfortably feeling exposed in the harsh light of the bay she was currently sat in.

"Okay" he drew out, filling out a part of the form, Brennan not paying much attention, her focus on the hem of her shirt.

"I'm just going to do a quick evaluation" he stated, inspecting her face, probing gently.

"Nothing broken" she stated quickly, her eyes meeting his. He went to speak but she intervened, "I'm a forensic anthropologist. I'd know if something was broken..." she said, feeling unconfident. He smiled at her, nodding slightly.

"Sounds like an impressive job" he continued, dipping her head forward slightly to inspect the wound on the back of her head, Brennan hissing as he touched it. He apologised, grabbing his flashlight from his jacket pocket, shining it into her eyes. When he was finished he scrawled down some notes, Brennan thinking it was illegible.

"You appear to have a slight concussion, but no need for stitches on the wound" he paused in thought. "You'll need to be monitored, is there someone you can call?"

She thought for a moment, Angela could come, but she knew that she should call Booth. He would be mad with her for not calling but she didn't want to disturb him. It had been her stupid idea to go home at 1am.

"Miss. Brennan?" the doctor called politely.

"Sorry" she muttered feeling slightly embarrassed. The doctor shifted his arms crossed across his chest. "I have reason to believe that you have been sexually assaulted" he stated firmly, seemingly gagging her reaction. Brennan stared hard at him for a moment, clearing her throat painfully but not saying anything. The doctor watched her for a moment before continuing.

"I would like to follow sexual attack protocol. SAP."

Brennan could hear the words, but it was like all the air had been sucked out of the room; she couldn't breath. Her eyes widened, and she tried to stand, wanting to bolt then and there. The doctor reached out, touching her arm and she hit out, hearing a smash as he went flying sending the tray of instruments onto the floor. He looked up at her dumbfounded before two other doctors arrived. She stood like a deer in the headlights, her breathing heavy before the female doctor took the initiative and stepped forward. She looked at the doctor still on the floor, slightly disorientated, his eyebrow bleeding.

"Sexual assault victim" he spoke quickly, the female doctor nodding. She reached out slowly, placing a hand on Brennan's arm. She was snapped back to reality and she sagged, the doctor guiding her to a cot telling her softly to sit down. She pulled the curtain around.

"I'm doctor Andrews" she started quietly. "I need to leave you for a second okay but I'll be right back."

Brennan was fully aware now, her cheeks red in shame, "I'm so sorry. I don't know what..." she tailed off, the doctor placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're in shock right now, and you probably did something out of character but there is no need to be ashamed. Okay?"

Brennan nodded, sitting up straight, trying to remember who she had been just a few hours ago.

Two hours later and the police had come and gone, taking her account of the events of the evening as well as her clothing for forensics, and she had gone through the humiliation of a sexual attack kit. It was the DC polices' jurisdiction, which she felt thankful for as it meant she wouldn't have to tell Booth the full details. She didn't want him to know, she didn't want anyone to know. Doctor Andrews had kindly tried to give her some leaflets and suggest talking to someone about the nights events, but she had brushed her off, resorting to her cold front to try to numb the pain. She felt horrid at being so blunt, but she had no other way to cope. She would put this in a box and pack it away never to be opened or glanced upon again.


	3. Chapter 3

Two hours later and the police had come and gone, taking her account of the events of the evening as well as her clothing for forensics, and she had gone through the humiliation of a sexual attack kit. It was the DC polices' jurisdiction, which she felt thankful for as it meant she wouldn't have to tell Booth the full details. She didn't want him to know, she didn't want anyone to know. Doctor Andrews had kindly tried to give her some leaflets and suggest talking to someone about the nights events, but she had brushed her off, resorting to her cold front to try to numb the pain. She felt horrid at being so blunt, but she had no other way to cope. She would put this in a box and pack it away never to be opened or glanced upon again.

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She now felt dirty, longing for a shower, shivering as she wrapped an arm around herself, noticing for the first time the layer of goosebumps across her skin. The light gown she wore doing nothing to keep her warm. She inspected her arms, wondering how she was going to explain the marks to Booth, silently hoping that he didn't ask. She was pulled from her thoughts by the distinctive tone of her partners voice. He sounded so concerned and she felt her heart flutter. The curtain twitched before her partner entered with doctor Andrews. He stopped dead, looking at her before meeting her eyes.

"Bones. What the hell happened?" he spoke, approaching slowly. The doctor picked up on the tension, "Mr.Booth, could I please speak to Miss. Brennan alone for a few moments?"

Booth nodded mutely, leaving the curtained area. He was in shock; it was just like in New Orleans when he had rushed to get to her. She looked so broken though this time, her eyes had lost the sparkle they normally held. He was going to kill the man who had dared to touch his Bones. He almost laughed to himself, _his bones_. She would kill him if he knew that's what he referred to her as; she was too strong and independent to belong to anyone. The curtain drew back, and he saw Brennan stand up hesitantly.

"Thank you doctor Andrews" she spoke quietly, which worried Booth. Her normal fighting spirit seemed to be severely lacking. The doctor nodded slightly before smiling and walking hurriedly off. They stood awkwardly for a few moments, Brennan avoiding his gaze. He wanted to know everything that had happened, to take her in his arms and make her whole again but he knew that he would have to give her time.

"So, I'll take you home" he stated, breaking the silence. She stared at him hard for a few moments. "I'm sorry Booth, I know it's late".

He stepped towards her, touching her hand lightly, pulling it away like he had been burnt when she she recoiled at his touch. He frowned, pushing his hands in his pockets.

"You have nothing to apologise for okay Bones" he spoke softly, and she nodded. He led her slowly, passing by three bays, finding it odd when he saw a doctor, butterfly stitches being placed on his brow. _The things they have to put up with these days_ he thought to himself. He thought it strange when Brennan cringed.

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The drive back to her apartment was silent save for the dull moan of the tyres on the road. He was desperate to know what had happened, but beside the fact that she had obviously been attacked he knew nothing more. He stole glances at her, her head resting against the window, a hand wrapped protectively across her abdomen. She was wearing his jacket, Booth insisting that she take it, though she refused through chattering teeth. In the end she had given in, feeling instantly better with it wrapped around her frame. It dwarfed her small frame, and he couldn't help but notice how cute she looked. _Stop it_, he thought, _now is not the time to be thinking like that_, he scolded himself.

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After about 15 minutes or so he pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building, finding a parking space and killing the engine. It took her a few moments before she realised where they were and Booth could almost see her put her walls up again. She turned to him forcing a smile which came out more like a grimace.

"I guess I owe you an explanation" she stated, sighing. He looked at her expectantly and she continued. "I was leaving the lab going to my car when some bastard jumped me. I drove myself to the hospital, spoke to the police and then I called you." He tone was sharp, devoid of all emotion. He turned in his seat, "Bones, I was really worried" he spoke frankly. She was about to say something but stopped, seemingly rephrasing her words.

"Thanks for the lift Booth, I guess I'll see you tomorrow... or later" she corrected, opening the door and getting out. Booth was not entirely surprised by her behaviour. Bad things happened to her and she got back up and ignored the fact they ever happened. She entered her apartment building, Booth following her wordlessly up to her front door. She placed the key in the lock, trying to hide the fact that her hands were still shaking, pushing it open before pausing, noting that he was just standing there saying nothing.

"What Booth?" she asked angrily. She took a deep breath, turning towards him, "Look, thank you very much for coming and getting me, but I really need to get some sleep now".

Booth said nothing and she opened her door fully, before he spoke up. "Is that it?" he asked, staring at her. Bones suddenly felt naked, like every emotion running through her head was on display to the world.

"You get beat up, you call me, I drive you home and you expect me to just go home and forget about it? I mean, you have a concussion for Christ's sake! You need to be looked after." His tone was bordering on anger, the annoyance apparent, his hands flailing wildly emphasising his words.

"I have an alarm", she muttered exasperated, cringing as a look of hurt crept across his features. She sighed, rubbing her head. "What do you want me to say Booth?" she asked expectantly. "That it was a really shitty thing to happen, that I don't hurt?"

Booth leaned towards her, "I'd like you to acknowledge it Bones, instead of just ignoring it." His tone softened. "Please let me help you...you can't go to work tomorrow. You should take a few days off..."

She interrupted him, her eyebrows creased. "Booth, look I'm fine okay. I'll set my alarm for every half an hour...try to get some sleep. Just stop being the alpha male and being all protective." That hurt he thought, staring at her. She paused, her lips pursed.

"Goodnight Booth" she finished, her tone angry, closing the door, and despite himself all Booth could think was that it was morning.


	4. Chapter 4

Brennan had come to realise that you could really hate inanimate objects, in particular, her alarm. As it went off for what seemed like the hundredth time, she moaned, rolling over and shutting it off. _7am_, she noted, the red glow hurting her eyes. She sat up, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and heading towards the bathroom. After Booth had left she had had a shower, rubbing her skin raw, proud that she had kept her emotions in check and had not been reduced to a sobbing mess. She felt numb, but she knew that was better than crying and feeling depressed about the events of the previous night. She approached the cabinet in the bathroom, atop which sat her prescriptions. _Pills for rape victims_, she thought dully, and painkillers. She refused to be a victim she thought angrily, grabbing the pills and swallowing them dry. She inspected her face in the mirror, realising that it now actually looked worse than the night before – the bruise on her cheek more pronounced, the split lip more swollen. She got dressed quickly, avoiding the mirror, making sure she wore long sleeves, deciding on a maroon coloured shirt. She became annoyed when she couldn't find her bag, then realised it had been taken in the attack, she sagged against the kitchen work surface, trying to steady her breathing. _I'll just make a few calls_, she told herself, her faux calm close to breaking. _Yeah apart from the fact you were raped_ her mind countered.

"I'm going to be fine", she spoke aloud, the words escaping her lips, and so it became her mantra. 

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"Oh my god sweetie!" Angela cried as Brennan entered the Jeffersonian, walking past the platform towards her office. She was secretly hoping that she would be able to avoid the artist. She stopped dead, composing herself before turning. Angela rushed over, gingerly touching her shoulder.

"I'm fine Angela" Brennan giving her best attempt at confidence, although it sounded like a lie even to her own ears.

"Tempe, you look like you went fifty rounds with Tyson! You're not fine" she spoke softly.

Brennan crossed her arms defensively, "I don't know what that means". Angela looked at her sympathetically, angering her. 

"I'm going to my office" she stated, turning on her heel, walking quickly. Angela followed Brennan into her office as she approached her computer, switching it on. Angela sighed closing the door, walking over and stopping beside Brennan's desk.

"Do I not at least deserve an explanation?" she asked, hurt.

Brennan sighed, looking up from her computer. "Why?" she asked bluntly.

Angela stiffened, looking hurt. "Sweetie, I'm your best friend. I need to know what happened."

Brennan felt instantly guilty. "I was leaving for the night when some guy attacked me in the car park." Angela looked angry. "Did the police take an account? Is Booth looking into it?"

Brennan set her jaw at the mention of Booth. "It's being handled by the local police. It's not an FBI case, it was an attack not a murder", she stated, her voice rising to a half shout. 

"Okay" Angela said, raising her hands. "I just thought Booth would rush it through, get the guy. Your knight in standard FBI armour and all that."

Brennan said nothing, tapping away at her keyboard. She glanced over at Angela. 

"Is that all you wanted to know?" she asked, Angela cringing at her tone. She could see her friend pushing her away, in denial as always, not willing to open up. It was like trying to open an oyster with a toothpick, and Angela knew it was a pointless activity. She walked to the door, opening it and pausing in the doorway. "I'm here when you're ready to talk."

She smiled sadly before closing the door. Silence had never been so deafening.

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The events of the previous evening were tearing through his mind like a hurricane, and he cursed as he spilt hot coffee on his hand. He had not been able to concentrate all day, and wanted an excuse just to go over to the Jefforsonian to see her. He returned to his office, coffee in tow, to find Cullen seated in his black swivel chair.

"Booth" he spoke, nodding slightly.

"What can I do for you sir?" he asked, sullenly.

Cullen looked a bit confused by his tone and expression, but didn't pursue it.

"New case", he stated, gesturing to the brown manilla folder sat on his desk.

"You'll need Dr. Brennan on this one. Body found at a scrapyard, looks like a body dump."

Booth nodded, putting down his coffee, rounding the desk and flipping open the folder. 

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Booth was less than surprised when he was accosted by Angela as he entered the Jefforsonian. She had an expression which spoke volumes and he followed her without question.

"She didn't ring me, and I'm guessing that she was advised to phone someone, so my natural conclusion is that you picked her up from the hospital last night."

Booth nodded, pacing. "Yeah, at about 3am. I dropped her back at her place. She was not in the mood to talk."

Angela sighed, "I tried talking to her earlier but she insisted she was fine."

"Isn't she always" Booth replied, Angela frowning.

"I was surprised that you weren't gonna be involved in her case. I mean, we don't even know if it was random or not." Angela paused, pushing a curl behind her ear. "I mean...he could know who she is." She looked scared and Booth stopped pacing.

"He could come back, try again. I mean what did he want...". 

Her rant was silenced by Booths hand on her arm. "Look Angela, she wouldn't talk to me about it."

"Couldn't you talk to the police, see what they have?" She asked hopefully.

"Angela, I want to get this son of a bitch as much as you, but if Bones finds out I've been snooping she's gonna be really pissed off."

Angela nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "I know that if the police thought she was in immediate danger then they would have posted an officer outside her house and maybe here also. I'm guessing this was a random attack". He continued, his tone softer.

"Cullen has given me a new case, we need to head out to a scrap yard. It's a bit of a drive so I can try to get her to open up okay?"

Angela smiled slightly, her posture becoming slightly more relaxed. "Thanks Booth." She turned to walk away, when Booth started talking once more, and she turned, his expression solemn.

"Angela, I care about her as much as you do. You have my word that I'll keep her safe."


	5. Chapter 5

Bones was startled by the knock at her door, and she took several moments to collect herself before glancing up, her mask back in place, to see Booth lingering on the fresh hold.

"Bones" he acknowledged and she forced a fake smile. He wondered in, stopping next to her desk. 

"New case, scrap yard."

Brennan tapped a few more keys, before grabbing her jacket and bag. "Let's go".

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Brennan was in deliberation. On one hand she was thankful for a new case; unfortunately it meant being stuck in a car with Booth for over 50 minutes He had tried, and failed, to start a conversation several times but she had cut her answers short, one worded, no emotion. Booth glanced over at her once more; she was staring out of the window, her eyes glazed over, her brow furrowed, deep in thought. _Why can't she just talk to me?_ He pondered, looking back at the road. They had left the historic sights of the city behind, and he manoeuvred the car along narrow roads, the sky being hidden by tree branches suspended overhead. He watched the shadows on the road dancing as light sneaked through, his eyes darting back when he caught a movement on his left side. 

"Shit!" he sword loudly seeing a deer run out in the road. He slammed on the breaks, ramming the steering wheel to the left violently, his wrist protesting. The breaks screamed in effort, and the car shuddered to a stop, silence engulfing the car. The deer which had stopped in it's tracks looked shocked for a second, mesmerised by the car, before darting off into the woods, a rustle of leaves left in its wake. _Bones_, Booth thought, his head snapping in her direction.

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"_Dr. Brennan" the voice spoke softly, though the menace in it belayed a taunt. She was spinning quickly and then suddenly the ground was rushing up to meet her, her head thundering. She hit the concrete hard, her side throbbing in protest. She felt a hand move along her back, leaving shivers in its wake and she bided her time, feeling the hand on her lower back before she flipped over hitting out at her attacker. He was quick, avoiding the blow and grabbing her wrists forcing them above her head as she struggled, grunting angrily._

"_Now now, play nice" he chuckled softly, his face hidden behind a jet black balaclava, but his eyes, deep green and piercing._

"_Bastard!" she spat, his hand releasing before he struck out with force, leaving her cheek throbbing like it was on fire. He jerked her arms back with once hand, the other he dragged down her arms, scratching her arms, drawing blood. She began to squirm kicking out._

"_Don't" he threatened, mounting her, his weight on her pelvis. She froze then, his intentions now obvious. Oh god, she thought holding back a sob. She heard a distant screech of tyres, realising that she never believed in god._

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"Bones!" he spoke firmly, though she didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. He shifted in his seat, inching closer. "Bones!" he spoke louder; still no response, he was starting to worry, a cold fear creeping thorough his veins. "Temperance?" he shouted, shaking her shoulder lightly, and on his contact the spell was broken. 

Her head snapped in his direction, her gaze frantic. There was only one message running through her mind, _run_. She thumbled with the car door, half falling out of the car, before bolting off down the road. Booth hadn't moved, watching in shock as she ran at full tilt down the road. She slowed about a hundred meters up the road, leaning over, her hands wrapped around her midsection. He exited the vehicle, glancing back to see no damage had been caused by their near accident, before jogging towards her. He stopped a bit behind her, giving her breathing space, shifting from leg to leg, his hands on his hips. She straightened up, not trusting herself to turn around to face him yet. He scraped a hand through his hair, "Bones, are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern. She breathed in deeply, blood rushing in her ears. She breathed a shuddering breath, it hitching slightly, before turning towards him. He crumbled at the look in her eyes, the look of pain, indecision, of loss. She looked pale making the bruising more pronounced, the cut lip more swollen.

"Oh Bones" he spoke softly, approaching her cautiously. She caught his gaze before looking down, tears coursing down the cheeks. He stepped towards her, his fingers on her chin, gently lifting her gaze to meet his. He searched her eyes for permission before taking her in his arms, and she began to sob softly, like a child who'd lost their favourite toy.


	6. Chapter 6

Booth was scared, in fact, he was terrified. Bones clung to his shirt, desperate, and he stroked her hair slowly, whispering softly in her ear. He had know her for four years, watched her as her world all but fell apart several times, and she had looked at him, eyes dry, jaw defensively tight, telling him she was fine. This was a shock, Temperance Brennan just didn't sob.

She pulled back, her head hung low, wiping aggressively at her tears. He waited patiently as she turned away from him, composing herself. When she turned back, her cheeks were dry, but her eyes were bloodshot and red. 

"Bones, please tell me what's wrong" he asked softly, and she nodded slowly, her face solemn.

"I'm sorry for...loosing it like that" she cringed.

"Bones, please don't apologise. I...care about you and I want to know what happened."

She nodded again, sniffing, crossing her arms tightly across her chest, sighing loudly. "I had a flashback. A very vivid flashback."

She looked at Booth, expecting him to say something, but he said nothing, looking at her sympathetically. 

"I was back in that damn car park, on the cement, he hit me. I could taste the blood on my lip..." she trailed off, touching her lip subconsciously. Booth stepped closer towards her cautiously. 

"Bones, you're here with me, and I won't let anyone hurt you." He smiled warmly, and she smiled back in return. 

"Just remember that I'm here for you okay Bones. I know how this feels, you're blaming yourself, it's not your fault okay." He breathed deeply, phrasing what he needed to say mentally. 

"Look Bones, I've been wanting to say this, but I wanted to give you space. I sense there is more to this than you're letting on...I don't want to push you, but I need to you to come to me when you're ready."

"Thank you Booth" she answered, her tone sincere. "Can we get back in the car, I'm kinda cold." She smiled sheepishly, and he nodded.

"Of course".

As they walked back to the car she felt the overpowering feeling of guilt, _he deserves to know the truth, to know what really happened_, her mind taunted. She breathed deeply, preparing herself, "Booth.." she spoke loudly.

He spun to face her when they were interrupted by the loud high pitched drone of a horn, a large black Jeep approaching them. Bones and Booth moved to the side of the road as it pulled over in front of Booth's car. A tall, thin man, donning a long bottle green raincoat exited the vehicle, slowly removing his shades. He approached them, an easy smile on his lips.

"Lieutenant Lister, Fairview Police, although I work with the National Park also." His voice was smooth, his eyes a bright blue.

Booth smiled tensely, "Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan." He motioned to Brennan, who nodded slowly. Lister smiled putting his sunglasses back on, "Just the people I've been looking for." He inspected the cars position on the road, and the dark marks before it. "I take it you ran into some of our wildlife."

"Yes, almost literally" Brennan remarked causing Booth to smirk.

"You're our hot shots from Washington. I'll take you to the scene. We've been expecting you." Lister went to walk away, staring up at the sky. He paused turning to them. "Don't be fooled," he spoke loudly, pointing to the sky. "The suns shining now but I give it twenty minutes before we get some serious rainfall. I hope you have some waterproofs with you."

He nodded, getting into his vehicle and slamming the car door. Booth took this as a queue to enter their car, waiting for Brennan to follow. He watched her delicate hands as she closed the door and did up her seatbelt. He started the engine, glancing over at her expectantly, and she looked away for a second before looking back. "What was he talking about?" She stated, her tone annoyed. "It's not going to rain."


	7. Chapter 7

By the time they had reached the scrap yard the heavens had opened and were showing no signs of mercy. Bones couldn't help but feel a little frustrated by Booth's slow driving, but she knew it was necessary given the weather conditions. To be honest, she was restless. The whole breakdown and following conversation had left her feeling weak and exposed, and in addition, she was also still harbouring her secret. She promised herself that once they got back to Washington she would tell Booth everything.

* * *

The insistent thud of raindrops and the moan as the windscreen wipers were dragged across the glass brought her from her reverie and she glanced at Booth. He looked tense, she noted. His eyebrows furrowed, leaning slightly forward in his seat, his grip on the wheel tight. The car jolted as it stopped abruptly, and she glanced ahead to see the bright red break lights on Lister's car penetrate the darkness; the dull grey sky having brought with it premature darkness. They had entered what appeared to be a scrap yard, and she recalled Booth's curt description of their destination in her office. It felt like a million miles away; the glass walls and dull glow of her computer seemed very inviting at that moment.

"I think we're here...wherever here is" Booth stated, killing the engine. She could make out Lister walking leisurely towards them, a wide rimmed hat adorning his head now. He approached Booth's side and he wound down the window. The full onslaught of the rain became apparent now, the hiss of the wind and the loud patter as the raindrops hit the sodden earth.

"Body's about 50 yards away, we can't get any closer in the cars." He was shouting Bones registered, the rain vainly attempting to drown out his words. Booth turned to her and she nodded grimly, realising she would get drenched within a few seconds. She made to exit the vehicle before she felt Booth's hand on her shoulder.

"Bones wait!" He said alarmed. "You're gonna get soaked."

Brennan sighed in frustration, "Booth, in case you hadn't noticed, it's raining and I don't have a rain mack which makes that conclusion rather inevitable. I'm not just going to leave the body. It's rain, it's not going to kill me."

Anger tinged her words, and she felt slightly guilty at her tone. She wanted out of that vehicle and the threat of further conversation. She didn't wait for a reply before she turned, opened the door and her feet hit the wet earth below. Lister rounded the vehicle, smirking.

"I see you're in charge" he challenged, his tone mocking. She ignored him, pulling her now soaking hair behind her ear.

"Where's the body?" She called, and he pointed through the mist of water. "Over there. I'll show you."

* * *

They had gone about ten yards when she heard a distant voice and turned around as Booth came thundering towards them. He looked mildly ridiculous, his jacket held above his head in an attempt to ward off the rain as he jumped slightly, trying to avoid the larger puddles.

"You think I was gonna sit in the car and miss out on the all the fun?" He spoke cheekily, a twinkle in his eye. Brennan looked less that impressed, her wet hair sticking to her face, unruly; she turned and continued to follow Lister. They reached the body several moments later; it was half buried beneath some rotting wood and several long red metal poles. She had to squint slightly in the failing light to make it out, but the distinct clawed shape of a human hand protruded above a wooden sheet. She peered closer, jumping as the skeleton was suddenly drowned in bright light. She turned to see Lister approached with a powerful torch.

"Thought it might help!" He shouted above the wind which had picked up, sweeping low, kicking up the ground water. She nodded thankfully, the light steady as she leaned in, Booth now beside her.

"Female, I'd say later 20's to early thirties. I can't really make out her lower half, but no obvious signs of damage to her skull or upper body."

She inspected what she could, leaning down and peering into the space under the wooden board, criss-crossed randomly by the metal poles. She could make out the skeleton's pelvis and legs, but it was difficult to see in any detail, light poking through at intervals, throwing scraps of light onto the skeleton beneath and casting long obscure shadows. She frowned, rising to her full height.

"I can't make anything out in this light!" Brennan shouted angrily.

"Is this scene secure?" She then called out to Lister.

He swung the light towards her without thinking causing her to blink rapidly raising a hand to shield her eyes. "Sorry!" He apologised, lowering the torch. "Yes, local police cordoned off this area. This area of the scrap yard is not in use anyway. Owner says he uses the lower portion near his house."

"May I suggest we come back tomorrow, when there is less risk of drowning!" Booth piped in, his coat now hanging from his head, water dripping off his shoulders.

"I guess I should get you guys a motel!" Lister called, proceeding back to his cars.

"One with more than one room! She snores!" Booth joked, Lister smirking in return.

"I'll bet she does."


	8. Chapter 8

"I cannot believe you told him I snored!" Brennan huffed, her gaze hard. "That would imply that we've slept in the same room."

Booth struggled not to smile, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Bones, it was a joke okay. I'm sorry." He pleaded, his eyes twinkling; she ignored him, turning her back to him.

* * *

Lister had directed to them to the local motel, it was that or the rather expensive ranch to the south but Booth was not sure his expenses would cover such an extravagance. They exited the vehicle, jogging slightly through the rain towards the bright reception area. The door made an ominous high pitched ding as they entered and Booth surveyed the reception. It was over lit, with huge strip lights plastering the ceiling. The owners attempt to brighten up the décor has resulted in two oversized pillar-box red chairs, a small potted plant and blue walls just shy of turquoise.

"Hello, how may I help you?" The receptionist asked, her tone overly cheerful, as dyed blonde hair bounced on the shoulders.

"Hi, we'd like two rooms please." He spoke confidently, smiling, and the receptionist smiled back showing perfect white teeth. She entered something on a keyboard, glancing up at Booth once again smiling.

"Well, it seems we've only got one double left." Her voice was low, almost husky, her words long.

"What!?" Brennan exclaimed, hands on hips. "Are you sure?"

The receptionist looked at her pointedly, blinking several times. "Well, that's what the computer says and it isn't wrong. So yes, I'm sure." Her tone was cool, and Booth pulled a hand through his hair. "We'll take it, thank you...Isabelle" he finished, reading her name off the badge. Brennan glared at him, before walking towards the door and looking outside. It was still raining, but it was dark now, the puddles glinting in the cheap bright lights of the motel. She was vaguely aware of Booth's conversation with the receptionist and glanced round to see them both smiling. _He uses his charm smile and he has them at his feet_, she thought. She reminisced back to Sully, her last relationship. She had never loved him, she knew that now, but the illusion of it was there and she had enjoyed that.

"Bones?" Booth called, and she spun on her heel. She followed him wordlessly, and several times he looked poised to speak but said nothing. They reached their room, tucked away in the left corner of the U-shaped motel. Booth opened the door, cringing at the sight of the double bed. It was a basic room, the double bed dominating the small space with twin bedside cabinets with a large wardrobe made of cheap laminate wood against the far wall. There was an old television set perched rather precariously on a small table with a chair beside and an ashtray made of faux marble. Attempts had been made to brighten it up the room in the form of pistachio green curtains and light blue walls, but it missed the mark the room leaving it feeling decidedly dull.

"Well, I guess, I'll take the chair, or the floor..." he trailed off, noting how uncomfortable the cheap plastic chair looked. Brennan felt instantly guilty, looking over at the bed and sighing in defeat.

"Look Booth, we're both adults, I'm sure that we can share a bed." Her tone was hesitant and Booth smiled back warmly in thanks. Five minutes later and Booth had removed his shoes and was lying in bed, staring at the dull off-white ceiling. He heard the bathroom door open and could hear the soft tread of bare feet on carpet. He felt the bed shift, and turned slightly to see Brennan join him. "About today Bones..."

"I'm fine Booth." She murmured, her voice husky.

"You scared me Bones" he spoke softly, his tone honest and she rolled over staring at him. Brennan looked beautiful in the low light creeping round the sides of the thin curtains. Her hair was slightly tousled, and her eyes soft. Booth leant forward tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear and she smiled slightly, her breath hot on his cheek.

"Goodnight Bones" he whispered, clenching his fists to stop himself from reaching out once more, to take her, hold her. She smiled again, before rolling away from him and switching off her bedside lamp. Booth could hear her breathing slow to a steady rate and knew she had fallen asleep. He lay in silence, their breaths breaking the silence.

* * *

He woke to hushed incomprehensible words, and stuttered movements beside him. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking down at Brennan's restless form.

"Bones" he called softly, but the words were dead to her and she continued to thrash, her forehead glistening with sweat in the low light, her lips moving quickly, words tumbling out. He leant over, grabbing her shoulders with a feather touch, whispering to her and she stilled, her breathing heavy. Her eyes opened into slits, staring at him in confusion. His hands felt frozen to her, the soft supple skin below making his fingers tingle.

"Bones, you were having a nightmare" he stated softly, and she nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on his. She reached forward with her left arm and touched his chest, setting on fire, effectively destroying any resolve he had maintained over their strictly professional relationship. Before he knew what had overcome him he closed the distance between them and kissed her softly, surprised when she returned the kiss, deepening it, her hands gripping his broad shoulders. It was her who pulled away, looking happy for a second, before something darker crossed her features, but she said nothing, pushing him away weakly and he leant back returning to his elected side of the bed.

"Bones..." he called, worried at her reaction.

"Goodnight Booth" she spoke neutrally, her voice conveying nothing.


	9. Chapter 9

He lay awake till he heard her breathing slow and knew she had fallen asleep. He didn't know what had possessed him to kiss her, but his lips still tingled at the contact, her taste on his lips. He knew that he loved her, of that he was sure, but it was complicated; Bones was complicated. He flipped onto his back, staring at the ceiling once more, mentally urging on the morning.

He awoke again to the sound a shower, the steady hiss of water. He looked over, seeing Brennan's side of the bed vacant and his thoughts returned to the previous evening, groaning as he recalled in detail the kiss they had shared. The hiss stopped abruptly, and a minute later Brennan emerged, her hair wet, dripping onto the towel wrapped round her shoulders. His eyes fixed on her face - she looked sad he noted, and more delicate than he thought he had ever seen her. He found himself staring, and tore his eyes away after several moments, his eyes darting away, resting on his hands, clasped in his lap.

"I'm done. There's still hot water if...you want a shower."

He looked up again, and she stood awkwardly, her arms crossed across he chest, shifting from foot to foot. He stood abruptly, passing a hand through his hair and clearing his throat.

"About...last night..." Booth started, but was interrupted mid sentence by Brennan's instruction that they needed to leave soon. He wasn't sure whether it was because he had spoken quietly or that she really wanted to avoid that discussion – he was sure it was the later.

Lister had phoned them to indicate that the body had been extracted and would be driven back to the Jeffersonian that morning. Booth had thanked him and they had quickly gathered their things and gotten into the car. The drive back to DC was uneventful, and Brennan had barely spoken other than to indicate she wasn't too cold when he switched on the air conditioning and that she wasn't hungry. He glanced over at her several times during the journey, but her gaze was steely, and directed away from him. He wanted to talk about the previous night, but he didn't want to push her. He knew about her reputation for disappearing first hand, and the last thing he wanted to do was push her away, so he remained tight lipped. When they finally pulled into the Jeffersonian he was relieved, killing the engine. Brennan showed no indication that she realised that they had reached their destination so he hesitantly reached over and touched her shoulder. She pulled away, he head whipping around.

"We're here Bones" he spoke quietly, and she blinked several times before nodding.

"About, the other day, the...deer. I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything about it...I was being over emotional, it won't happen again." She looked at him expectantly and he signed, shifting in his seat, "Look Bones, I won't say anything, but you've got to realise that there is nothing wrong with being upset about what happened..."

"...I'm fine Booth!" She spoke loudly, and Booth cringed slightly at her tone. He was angry at her now. She was cutting herself off again, not letting him in.

"I guess we're not going to talk about last night either then?!" he shouted. She stared at him for several moments, her expression becoming darker, but she said nothing, exiting the vehicle and slamming the door.

"Damn it Bones!" He shouted slamming his hands against the steering wheel, slouching forward.

"Damn it" he muttered solemnly.

"Welcome back Dr. Brennan. How was your trip?" Zach asked, and she entered the Jefforsonion.

"Fine thank you" She muttered, without slowing her pace. After a few moments she chastised herself and stopped, spinning on her heel. Zach looked confused, his brow creased. She paused for a moment, contemplating an excuse for her behaviour when she caught Booth entering out of the corner of her eye.

"Dr. Brennan?" Zach asked hesitantly, her gaze lingering on Booth before shifting back to Zach.

"Has the body from the national park arrived yet?" She questioned, her tone softer than before, and Zach smiled slightly. "Yes, they put it out on the platform for you when it got here. Hodgins and myself prepared it for you."

Brennan had spent over five hours going over the body of the woman; cause of death was clean cut, five deep stab wounds to her abdomen assured her of that, but she needed the distraction, the comfort of work, so she had followed protocol to the letter, methodically, slowly. Angela had left sometime around seven with Hodgins, Brennan had barely noticed their departure save a hand on her shoulder and distant footsteps.

She glanced at the clock, sighing when the hands indicated it was close to nine. She suddenly felt the world shift and realised she had skipped lunch and worked through dinner, behaviour, she realised, Booth would admonish. Booth, his name floated through her head. Their relationship had been strained of late, only made worse by her behaviour and the events in the motel room. He may have instantiated the kiss, but she had done nothing to stop him. She was brought from her thoughts by heavy footsteps and she glanced up to see Booth, silhouetted against the main entrance. He didn't say anything, just stood, and Brennan felt her breath catch in her throat, fighting her flight response.

"What are you doing here Booth?" Her response was harsh, and she inwardly cringed at her tone. She studied him for a few moment, watching as something akin to hurt crossed his features before he shifted his weight to one leg.

"I thought, maybe, you would appreciate some food?" His tone was soft, and she noticed a white plastic bag in his hand. Honestly, the thought of food lifted her spirits, but the associated awkwardness in eating it with Booth made the decision difficult. Booth looked at her expectantly, a sheepish smile on his lips, when her phone rang out, making her jump slightly. She didn't even attempt to look apologetic and was thankful for the interruption, sliding her phone open.

"Hello, is that a Dr. Temperance Brennan?"


	10. Chapter 10

Just wanted to apologise for the prolonged hiatus in the middle of this story - there is still a way to go and I hope to be updated everyday until it's finished.

And now for the story....

* * *

"Yes" she stated, trying to quell the frustration. This whole sordid affair was frustrating; Brennan considered herself a reasoned, articulate person, but the whole attack had left her shaken, more than she even wanted to admit. Her resolve had been shaken, the values on which she based herself had been shifted and she felt herself falling towards something unfamiliar. This made her frustrated, but she could feel the noose on her resolve tighten.

"Dr. Brennan, this is Lieutenant Greturn. I'm calling in regard to your case" he paused, and she waited impatiently, feeling slightly breathless. "We have a development and we'd very much appreciate it if you could head down to the station."

Brennan froze. Booth was staring now, his eyes boring into her and she shifted her eyes away, turning her back to him.

"Yes, that would be fine" she answered quietly.

"I know it's late...Dr. Brennan, do you need directions to the station?" He asked, warmly.

"No" she stated harshly, before compensating for her rudeness and hanging up. She put the phone on the work bench, sighing.

"You okay Bones?" Booth asked kindly, and she turned slowly to face him, her stoic face back in its place.

"I'm sorry Booth, but I have to go." She looked guilty for a second before moving towards her office, slightly annoyed when she could feel him following her. She rounded her desk, shutting down her computer and gathering her things, looking up to see him resting against the door, his arms crossed defensively. She put her jacket on and approached him but he didn't move from his stance and she stopped a few feet before him, her arms crossed, holding her ground.

"Look Bones", he started, sighing before looking her right in the eye, unnerving her. "You know I'm here for you, and I know you say you're okay, and I'm sure you'll just go on pretending this...thing" he continued, his hands expressive, before folding once more, "...didn't happen, but we both know it did." His tone had softened and Brennan found it hard to look him in the eye. She had always found socialising awkward and though she'd never admit it, Booth made her feel at ease, safe. There was something in his eyes, a kindness she felt that she didn't deserve and it made her feel uncomfortable. The soft glow of the labs lights caught his features and she felt her breath hitch and something deep inside her stirred.

"Please Bones, this is going to eat you up inside if you don't open up about it. Trust me, I know." He had moved closer, and she could feel his breath on her cheek, his warmth threatened to break down her defences. Of course she knew he was right; logically she knew what these sorts of things did to people. Unbidden images of dark places flashed through her mind and she struggled to hold his gaze.

"Please" his voice all but a whisper, his hand came up to cup her cheek and something inside her broke. As if by reflex, her hand launched up slapping him and he stumbled backwards, his hand holding his cheek as though he'd been burnt.

"Don't touch me" Brennan growled, breathless, her eyes cloudy and dark. Then she crashed right back down, realising that she was not all right, that that man had taken something from her that night. A sob caught in her throat, and she brought her hand to her mouth suddenly feeling deep churning nausea that threatened to overpower her. Any anger on Booths face dissolved and she hated him in that moment, because she knew that he was a better person than she could ever be. She wanted him to shout at her, tell her what a horrible person she was, but instead he looked at her with affection and acceptance which she couldn't bare to take. She couldn't breath.

"I'm....so sorry" she struggled out. Her eyes darted from him to the door and she all but ran out of the door. She could hear Booth behind her, calling out for her but she shut him out, not feeling safe until she heard the crunch of the grit from the road beneath her tyres.

"Dr. Brennan, I'm here to see Lieutenant Greturn." The lady on the reception looked at Brennan rather unenthusiastically grabbed her phone. Brennan glanced around the reception area, noting the rather odd collection of chairs and the cluttered pinboard. Her mind was reeling from the events in her office but she had managed to compose herself on the drive to the station. Booth had already rung her five times and she had resorted to switching off her phone.

"Dr. Brennan" a low, gruff behind her called out and she turned to see a middle aged man with dirty blond hair and a thick layer of stubble greet her. She managed to force a smile and approached him, offering her hand. He took it and smiled, his not any more convincing than hers.

He led her down a dingy corridor to a small room with a small wooden table, three rather battered chairs and a water dispenser.

"Hope this is okay – it's late and the main office is a bit noisy. Officer Mitchell will be joining us in a few minutes." He looked at her expectantly and she nodded, as he motioned for her to take a seat. Grethan slapped down the manilla file he was holding and she cringed inwardly, slowly sitting down opposite him. He opened it, chewing his lip for a few moments before he cleared his throat and looked up at her.

"So, let me get straight to the point Dr. Brennan." Grethan moved forward on his seat, his elbows resting on he table between them. "We had another rape report today, similar circumstances to yours. The victim was not so lucky."

Brennan shifted uneasily in her seat; the use of rape in the context of her own life made her shudder. Grethan had something akin to remorse etched on his features, and Brennan motioned for him to continue.

"She was attacked in a parking lot, as you were." Grethan eyes darkened before he continued. "He slit her throat. It happened this morning and we've had the CSI's all over it and they came up with nothing useful." Grethan closed the file slowly, clasping his hands on the table. He looked up as the door behind her opened and then closed again. A younger officer entered offering her a sympathetic smile before he grabbed the remaining chair and sat down.

"Dr. Brennan, this is Officer Mitchell."

"Nice to meet you Dr. Brennan" he spoke, his voice husky, a deep Texan accent floating over his words.

"Dr. Brennan, we need to know if there is anything that has come to you, anything at all no matter how insignificant." It was Grethan who spoke, and Mitchell glanced at her, before grabbing the file off the table and leafing through it. Brennan watched him for a few moments, deep in thought.

"_Now now, play nice" he chuckled softly, his dark green eyes taunting._

"He smelled of whiskey and cheap cigarettes". Her voice surprised her, and she watched Grethan pull out a small notebook, the small pencil moving across the surface making a quiet scratching sound that unnerved her. She felt that she was back in that car park, the tarmac scratching her legs, his hot breath on her cheek.

Grethan looked at her again, "Anything else at all Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan shook her head, not trusting her voice in that particular moment. _Oh god_, she thought, her mind rushing, panic laden and heavy. Mitchell smiled unenthusiastically at Grethan and he nodded, Mitchell rising from his seat placing the manilla file back on the table.

"Thanks for coming by Dr. Brennan." He left and she heard the click as the door closed once more. Grethan cleared his voice and her eyes flicked up.

"Is there anything else at all Dr. Brennan?" There was something else in his voice now. Underneath the gruffness, was that sympathy she heard? She refused to be a victim and she could feel anger swell in her chest.

"I already told you everything I can remember!" She shouted but Grethan didn't look at all surprised. He rose and she joined him, ready to apologise for her outburst but he beat her to it.

"I appreciate that this is a horrible situation for anyone...I appreciate you coming down here." He pulled a card apparently from nowhere, though Brennan's mind was drifting, and he handed it to Brennan. "If there is anything else, I'd appreciate a call."

She nodded mutely, her mind elsewhere.


	11. Chapter 11

She was not one to resort to alcohol, she felt it was a staple of the weak, of the desperate, but she found herself alone, nursing a glass of vodka, the bottle dusty from lack of use. She had tried to sleep, but images flashed through her mind and she found sleep impossible. She had given up at one and had been sitting on the floor in the dark with her bottle of vodka ever since. She was relieved that Booth had not called by, she could not bear to see him so soon, her act summoning a deep sense of shame. Booth was everything she was not; emotive, passionate, caring. He rode the sea of emotions so easily whilst she chocked. She took a long swig of vodka, teasing the lid off the bottle and filling it up once more, the slosh as it slipped around in the glass deafening. Why did she find it so hard to just tell him what had happened, let him take her into his arms and cry? That's what normal people would do she reasoned, feeling jealous and taking another sip of alcohol.

* * *

She was woken not by the sound of her alarm but by light hitting her eyes. She attempted to swat it away, her mind fuzzy like it had been wrapped up in cotton wool. She found herself laughing dryly at the prospect and opened her eyes, cringing as her eyes suddenly felt like they were on fire. She sat up slowly, attempting to ignore the slosh in her stomach, taking in her surroundings. The previous night came back in drips; not being able to sleep, refuge with the alcohol on her floor. She must have fallen asleep at some point, the ache in her neck was testament to that. The alcohol had done it's job however, and she remembered nothing of dark memories during the night. She got up slowly, stumbling against her wall and glanced up at the clock. Nine thirty. She cursed loudly, shocked when she heard a glass smash. Her vodka glass now lay on the ground shattered, its precarious position on the edge of the coffee table compromised by her active awakening she surmised. She decided to ignore it, reasoning there would be plenty of time to tidy up later and that it was not a hazard to anyone. No one, because she was totally alone. She had a quick shower, dressing quickly, thoughts floating through her mind. Brennan had sobered up somewhat, but still misjudged the coffee table, landing on her hands and knee, pain flaring in her hand. She lifted it slowly, blood gushing down her hand.

"Stupid fucking glass!" she shouted, "Stupid...fucking...glass" her words morphing into sobs. The pain overpowered her and she grabbed her chest, sobbing, hot tears hitting the floor. That bastard had taken away any remaining shred of hope for her; he had sealed her fate. She would remain alone, her heart shrivelled up, too far gone to be repaired.

"Stop crying Temperance!" she shouted angrily, swatting at the tears on her cheeks. She was momentarily hypnotised by her bleeding hand, but noticed that the bleeding had slowly. Brennan rinsed it in the kitchen sink, hissing as the water hit, before wrapping it quickly with gauze, concluding that she would come up with some bullshit story about five-a-day, orange juice and a sleepy accident.

* * *

She had not made it two feet into the Jefforsonian when Angela rushed towards her, her pace slowing, cautious, in the way you would approach a wounded animal.

"You okay Brennan?" She asked, looking concerned, her eyes taking in her appearance. "I tried to phone you this morning, you know you're never late". She attempted a smile but it dissipated as Brennan's steely gaze met hers.

"I'm fine, my phone was off." Brennan answered, her tone cold, her eyes lingering on for a few moments before she continued to walk towards her office. To her annoyance, Angela had followed her.

"Look Brennan, no offence here, but you look like shit." Angela was as tactful as possible, her words soft. Brennan ignored her unpacking her laptop when Angela's eyes caught on the gauze on her hand. Angela grabbed her fingers, looking at her, worry evident on her face.

"What happened to your hand Brennan?"

Brennan snatched her hand back, fingering the gauze. "I dropped a glass this morning and cut it."

Brennan glanced at Angela and she did not look convinced, and she straightened, looking hurt. Brennan knew she was being a bitch, but she couldn't summon up enough energy to care.

"Look Dr. Montenegro, I've got a lot of work to do." She caught her mistake a moment after the words had tumbled out of her lips and her eyes snapped up, but Angela was already leaving. Angela had not been Dr. Montenegro for years.

* * *

Brennan squeezed her eyes shut, leaning forward, rubbing her temples. The clock read four and she almost believed she might get away with avoiding Booth; unfortunately he had other ideas. She knew he was standing there before she looked up. She expected him to look angry, hurt, frustrated, anything, but his face was a mask, his eyes giving nothing away. They stayed like that for several moments, neither speaking, neither moving until Booth looked away, shoving his hands in his pocket.

"We have a hit on a guy who knew the victim; no alibi." His tone was not cold but distant and Brennan cringed; she had half expected him to comment on her appearance. She had done this, she noted. It felt like he was a stranger; as they walked she no longer felt his hand on the small of her back, he no longer stole glances at her. He refused to look at her despite her efforts to catch his eye and she felt the guilt crawling through her veins.

"Booth" she started, her voice quiet, timid. "I...."

Booth looked hurt, "They're waiting for us." He stated simply, looking at her sadly before leaving her office. _You did this Temperance_, a voice in her head mocked her.


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks to everyone who has left reviews - I appreciate them.

Thanks particularly to mendenbar for your comments.

* * *

They rode to the FBI building in silence. Brennan usually found comfort in silence, but the air in the car was tense. The unsaid words between them hung in the air like tentacles, threatening to suffocate them. Brennan shifted in her seat, her eyes trailing slowly to rest on Booths features. He looked something between tense and irritated, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark.

"Booth, about what happened last night..." she trailed off, and he glanced at her nonchalantly before his focus shifted back to the road.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know...what happened." Her tone was melancholy, her eyes watery. She waited for his acceptance, but his eyes never shifted in her direction.

"There's nothing to talk about Bones. Let's just forget it okay." His voice was gruff, and she knew he was still upset, his shoulders hunched slightly. She pursed her lips to continue when she saw the outline of the FBI building come into view; they would have have to talk about this later.

* * *

She hated the FBI building, found it depressing. Her experience as a forensic anthropologist had taught her the horrible acts people could commit, the terrible things people did to each other. Here, in the FBI building, she met those people.

Booth was walking quicker than usual, and she fought to keep up, her shoes clicking on the wooden floor like a metronome. He turned a corner, exchanged words with a tall middle aged man standing beside a wooden door, before aggressively jamming the handle and opening the door she knew lead to an interrogation room. He didn't wait for her and she trailed behind him, hearing the click of the door behind her. She was surprised to see the room empty, now occupied only by herself and Booth. He looked at her, seemingly sensing her question, but he kept his distance, raking a hand through his hair, one hand held lazily on his hip.

"The guys running late apparently." Booth paced a few times, his gaze resting on her for a few moments. She didn't recognise the look he gave her now; it bordered judgemental, and she shivered, shifting her eye line to the one way glass. She looked tired, she noted. Her eyes were puffy, and a grey halo hung around her eyes. A few minutes passed and neither said a word, avoiding a common eye line, before the door clicked and a young, smartly dressed man entered closely followed by the man they had seen earlier lingering at the door.

"Special Agent Booth this is Mr. Adam Thompson." Adam smiled coyly, and Booth motioned for him to take a seat. He obliged, the chair scrapping along the ground as he moved closer to the table, resting his hands casually in his lap. Booth sat on the chair opposite and motioned for Brennan to take the remaining chair.

"Thanks for coming down Mr. Thompson, we just wanted to ask you a few questions." Booths tone was neutral, and Adam nodded curtly.

"A friend of yours, a Miss. Amy Maine was murdered approximately two weeks ago, her body was found two days ago in a scrap heap near the National Park." Brennan watched Adam's face for a reaction, as something she couldn't place fluttered across his face. Something about him unnerved Brennan; she wasn't sure if it was his lack of reaction, or the ease with which he handled the news.

"I'm sorry to here that" Adam answered, his voice markedly more solemn, though any emotion in his voice remained unmatched by his expression. Booth leant forward slightly in his chair, the overheard lighting casting a shadow across his cheek. He extracted a pocket notebook and flicked through it for several moments. Adam watched him, though his gaze was lazy, relaxed.

"Miss. Maine's mother talked about your relationship with her. Said you guys were pretty close." Booths voice was cool, but any attempt to unsettle Adam missed the mark.

"_Were_ being the appropriate word." He sighed dramatically. "I hadn't seen Amy for several months. We went on a few dates, we used to have fun." Adam smiled nostalgically and his gaze shifted to Brennan and her world froze. Those green eyes.

"_Want to have a little fun Dr. Brennan" he hissed, his cold green eyes locked on hers, her gaze frozen. He slapped her hard and her head snapped sideways, white fireworks whizzing through her mind. _

Brennan would never remember those next few moments but the next thing she knew she was holding a gun in shaking hands pointed at Adam. Adam's chair had cluttered to the ground and she could feel the reverberation beneath her feet. No one moved and she could hear her pulse beating at her temple. It was Booth who broke the silence.

"Bones, I need you to put down the gun." His voice was faux calm, the abnormally high pitch of his voice giving away his anxiousness. She could make him out in her peripheral vision, motioning for her to put down the gun, his face flushed. Her gaze remained fixed on Adam; his eyes were dark, and she swore she saw the shadow of a smile grace his lips.

"Bones!" Again Booth, his voice more urgent now.

"You bastard!" Bones choked out, her hands shaking more pronounced now, anger coursing through her veins like electricity.

"Bones, for gods sake, put down the god damn gun!" Booth was shouting down, his tone desperate and his eyes wild.

Bones closed the distance between herself and Adam, blood rushing through her ears, her palms sticky against the cold metal of the gun.

"You...fucking...bastard!" She spat out, waving the gun at Adam who kept his stance, maintaining her gaze, the corner of his mouth now twitching. Adam suddenly launched into action, pushing the gun away as it fired, the gun shot residue burning into Brennan's cheek, her ears ringing. She stumbled backwards, before violently pushing herself off the table, her fist connecting with Adam's nose with a sickening crunch. Brennan felt the world implode as Booth grabbed the gun aggressively from her grasp as she stood there shell shocked, Adam's nose gushing blood through his hands. Unseen to the other occupants of the room, behind his hands, Adam's lips curled into a smile.


	13. Chapter 13

Bones backed against the wall as all hell seemed to break loose. Booth had called for help and several men had entered, one gingerly inspecting Adam's nose as it gushed blood down him, his white shirt flowering red. Booth had his arms crossed, his eyes flicking between Adam and Brennan, his mouth pressed in a thin line and his eyes dark. Brennan looked at the floor, ashamed, her hands still shaking as she forced them into fists. She felt sick, and her head thumped, blood rushing in her ears; she was standing less than ten feet from the man who had viciously taken away the very qualities that defined her. Her dignity, her restraint and any calm of being she had summoned since her troubled childhood. Her mind was in full fight or flight mode; her jaw was tense and she eyed the door. She felt Booth's eyes on her but she refused to hold his gaze as she summoned her courage and glanced at Adam. An overly pale man was still inspecting his nose and at first he didn't notice her then his gaze shifted and locked.

"_I'm going to fuck you and you're going to enjoy" he hissed, his weight rolling onto her pelvis, his hand pressed her hands into the concrete._

Brennan bolted, feeling bile rise in her throat. She half stumbled, half ran towards the first restroom she found and launched herself over the porcelain as her body betrayed her. She could taste him, whiskey on his breath, in her mouth and she suddenly felt dirty. She wiped her mouth, her hands shaking, stumbling to the sink and struggling to turn the tap she splashed cold water on her face leaning against the sink, the rush of water doing nothing to calm her nerves. The pipes creaked as she shut off the water and glanced up, her reflection staring back at her. She no longer recognised the person looking back at her, the eyes too cold, the face too gaunt to belong to her.

How did she get here? She had been working, always working, surrounded by people but truly alone. She had been sleepwalking through life, days dictated by her work at the Jeffersonian. Then there was Booth. Always there, like a sentinel, asking so many questions of her without uttering a word. They had been in a silent tango for years, neither willing to ask the questions until that kiss in the motel, stirring something deep inside her which she had struggled to suppress. She didn't want anyone she had to depend on in life; so many times she had been burnt by betrayal that it seemed safer to keep everyone at a distance but Booth had refused, breaking down the walls she had built. She was broken from her thoughts by the creak of the door and she glanced up as a women swept past her, the moan of hinges and the click of a door in her wake. She hurriedly dried her face with the itchy paper towels and breathed deeply in an attempt to calm her nerves. She left the rest room, stopping abruptly when she saw Booth pacing the corridor. He stopped in mid flow when he saw her, storming quickly towards her, forcing her to stumble backwards, her eyes darting towards the exit.

"No Bones!" He shouted, "What the hell is going on?" His hands flailed wildly and he rested a hand on his hip, the other aggressively sweeping through his hair. She had never seem him like this, and she couldn't even place his mood. She had seen him angry a handful of times but this transcended anger, his actions erratic, his jaw locked.

"What the hell happened in there?" He stated, his handing punching the air. Brennan couldn't hold his gaze and looked away. He turned away, and she watched his back tense as he sighed heavily. He spun back angrily, stepping closer.

"Do I not at least deserve an explanation?" She dared to look at him and could all but see the anger swelling.

"Booth, I..." She struggled out, her defences crumbling, doing everything in her power to stop herself from crying.

"You could have killed him, you know that? You broke his nose, he's probably going to press charges." Brennan's cheeks burned with shame but still the words she so desperately wanted to say evaded her. She searched his face but he refused to look at her any longer. As suddenly as it had come, his anger seemed to dissipate and was replaced by intense sadness, his shoulders falling and his jaw slackened.

"All these years Bones and you won't even give me an explanation. Don't you at least owe me that?" She closed her eyes momentarily, feeling the prick of tears in her eyes.

"Booth, please, I..."

"You know what, save it." He spat out, the betrayal in his voice like a silent bullet and with that he started away. Time seemed to slow, his footsteps echoed in her mind and the words rolled off her tongue.

"He raped me Booth."

Brennan jumped slightly as he spun hard on his heel looking at her dumbstruck. His eyes clouded over.

"He what?" He asked, his voice low, shaking with suppressed anger.

"Booth please" she pleaded, "I can't do this here."

* * *

Booth was watching her as she opened her door, put the keys down on the sideboard and walked towards her kitchen. He had followed her inside and was now silently watching her actions, his eyes on her back, keeping his distance. She started towards the table, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and sloppily pouring herself out the vodka from the bottle which she had neglected from that morning. She took a long swig, stealing a glance at Booth who stood seething on the threshold. She had never seen him so angry, rage sparking through him like electricity. She took another swig of her vodka, feeling the familiar burn as it hit her throat.

"It was at the Jeffersonian" she started, nursing her vodka, turning away from Booth, feeling suddenly vulnerable.

"I was working late..." she trailed off, her eyes stinging with tears. "I didn't see him, he must have been waiting because he knew my name..." She trailed off, a sob slipped from her throat unbidden.

"I'm so sorry Bones." He was right behind her, she could feel warmth radiating off him.

"I tried to stop him Booth." She turned to him, struggling to hold the floodgates which threatened to fold, meeting his gaze. "I tried, but he was too strong." The first tear broke through, and Booth stood silently, the sorrow in his gaze breaking her.

"I should have known, I should have fucking known" He whispered, his eyes searching hers. She began to sob and without words he reached out for her and she let him in, sobbing into his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her, holding her as she clung to him as though he were a life vessel.


End file.
